


Snacking

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, The Pocky Game, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: They dare them to play the pocky game.





	Snacking

**Author's Note:**

> Another request by Pan! Pocky game + Shukita and need I say more

Once, Akira thought he might have called himself timid. He would step up for what he thought was right, but tried to avoid confrontation. The Metaverse had happened, then, and Arsene had let him tap into his rebel’s heart. With that came a whole new round of confidence, and now he would still try to avoid unnecessary confrontation but a challenge? He didn’t back down from those.

Funny that it had already started to bite him in the ass, though. He could feel his face flushing as he looked at Yusuke, who was looking back at him, intrigued but confused.

“What’s the pocky challenge?”

“You put one end of the pocky in your mouth,” Morgana said, and Akira could _hear_ the grin in his voice. “And Akira puts the other in his mouth.

“You bite your way to the middle, and whoever pulls away first is the loser,” Ryuji continued, tearing open the package of pocky. “I’ll do it with Ann.”

“You will not!” She snatched the package. “Just give it to this guy, he said he’d do it.”

“So we still get to eat it,” Yusuke said. “Sure. I’ll play.”

He didn’t back down from challenges. And besides…

Akira took the piece of offered pocky from Ann and put the end sans chocolate into his mouth.

“Holy shit, he’s really gonna do it.”

… he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t thought about being this close to Yusuke, anyway.

“Some of us don’t back out of things.”

“I said I’d do it with Ann!”

“Stop phrasing it like that!”

“Makoto, you’ll be our judge?” Yusuke asked. He looked at her, and then braced his elbows on the table to lean closer to Akira. God, he was pretty. Akira’s heart was starting to pound. This was really a bad idea.

“Do I really have to– fine.” She sighed. “Akira, you’ll have to move forward. Haru, switch me seats.”

“Wait, I want to watch this!” Futaba announced. “I have to get these- aha!” She broke her chopsticks and dug into her ramen. “Okay, go!”

Yusuke smiled at him. Akira’s stomach had the impression of being on a roller coaster. “I won’t lose,” Yusuke said, and leaned forward to bite off his end of the pocky.

He’d been this close to Yusuke once before, but in much less happy circumstances. He’d gotten hurt, in Mementos, when it had been just him and Yusuke. One on of his art escapades. The attack had been sudden and surprising, and they had made it through, but only after Akira had gotten knocked down. (And, if he were being honest, after he had gotten knocked _out_ , if only for a few seconds. He had never explicitly told Yusuke that.) He had opened his eyes to Yusuke hovering over him, too close and still ever too far away, and Akira had been struck with the sudden urge to say that he must have died because he was looking at an angel. Thank God something hadn’t let him actually say it.

That reminded him of now, where he had nowhere to look but into Yusuke’s eyes, and he tried not to let himself sink into them. He had to remember the pocky game. Yusuke had said he was going to win. Akira was planning to win himself.

From this angle, it seemed like he already had.

They met in the middle, close enough that Akira could feel Yusuke’s breath on his face. And then even closer, and he could feel Yusuke’s lips brushing against his, and he could smell something like chemical, something sharp and bitter that he had learned was oil paint. This was a bad idea.

This was _such_ a _good_ idea, oh God.

He didn’t know when the game ended and the kiss began, but one moment, Akira was silently reveling into the closeness of the man he’d been in love with since he’d gotten to know him, and then next, he’d taken his face in his hands and was kissing him full on the mouth and it was _glorious_ , it was _bliss_ –

There was commotion in the room, but Akira had closed his eyes and didn’t dare open them; it might break the spell, it might bring the moment to an end and he didn’t _want_ that, he’d wanted to kiss him for _ages_ –

What was maybe more surprising: Yusuke was kissing him back. Or was that Akira’s imagination? Barely there, feather light, and then– no, no, he wasn’t imagining it. Yusuke really was kissing him back, and Akira’s heart was fit to burst.

Oh God this was such a good idea this was a great idea this was the best idea–

He broke away first, trying not to pant for loss of breath, trying not to seem overeager although that ship had sailed. Trying not to give into the butterflies, or the urge to get up and walk away _right_ then, and trying not to listen to the voice nagging him that Yusuke hadn’t liked it, Yusuke hadn’t wanted it–

But Yusuke didn’t pull away, as Akira still had his hands on his face, and instead looked back at him with a slightly glazed look in his eyes. His lips were still slightly parted. “… was that part of the game as well?” he asked shortly, and his hair fell into his eyes as he tilted his head a centimeter or two.

A laugh tumbled from Akira’s lips. He wanted to lock his hands behind Yusuke’s neck and press his forehead to his. He didn’t dare. “It can be. If you want it to be.”

Yusuke smiled, and there went Akira’s heart, bursting right out of his chest to fly away into the sunset. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

 _Now_ he could dare, leaning forward to touch his forehead to Yusuke’s and just about to pass his lips against his again–

“ _Ahem.”_

Oh right.

There was Ryuji, looking shell-shocked, Morgana as smug as a cat could be, Futaba with her noodles forgotten, elbows propped on her knees. Makoto looked surprised, Ann and Haru were beaming.

Oh well.

“Give me that pocky,” he said, sticking his hand out.

“Hell no! I’m not giving you my pocky so you can make out! Do it on your own! Er, I mean–”

Akira slid his hand into Yusuke’s hair and kissed him again.

“C’mon, get a room.”

“This _is_ my room,” he mumbled, and felt Yusuke smile against his lips.

Thank God for this man.

(Thank God for pocky, too.)


End file.
